


Happy Birthday

by jii_ne



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jii_ne/pseuds/jii_ne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthday/Christmas fic for Kaneki Ken/Sasaki Haise and his journey well into Tokyo Ghoul:re.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I had written on tumblr over a year ago; I had felt it best to save it onto another platform. Plus, t'is the season, though albeit late ^^;

“…Is the battery low? What is this?”   
  
Ken’s father taps against the sides of the camcorder as he struggles with deciphering the blinking red light flashing intermittently just beside the lens. He turns the device in his hold and searches with earnest confusion, all the while keeping eye on the baby in his peripheral vision gesturing with excitement towards a bright display of colors found on a cake surrounding his name in blue frosting beneath a flickering flame.   
“If it’s blinking, it’s recording~,” the mother calls from a distance away. “It should be fi–Ken, no! Dear, the candle– _the candle_!”   
  
The camcorder lands on its side against a cushion and records with muffled audio Ken’s father scrambling forth to stop the baby from burning his fingertips.   
  
The man had not bothered to figure out how to erase the footage– his wife teases the story should make good memories for their future together.   
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
Ken’s face is chilled by the crisp air of a winter’s evening that continues to redden his nose; in search of warmth, he leans closer to the cake prepared and fills his lungs with the scent of lit candles, eyes closed to a moment’s bliss up until he hears a gasp to his right before his mother scolds him for such “odd curiosity” and habit of nearly burning himself every year.  
Five candles encircle his name written in blue frosting in the center of the cake, and Ken does his very best to blow out each one at a single go in hopes of his innocuous wish of a safe year and good luck to come true.  
  
“What did you wish for, honey?”   
“If I tell you, it won’t come true!”   
“Ah,” she chuckles, and lovingly pets his hair at his wit.   
“You’re right. You’re right.”   
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
On the day he turns 15, the teen returns to the home of his aunt and unlatches the front door to be greeted by a wave of warm air. No one responds when he announces his return from school, and Ken can only assume it means he should spend his birthday alone. Entering the kitchen, he notices money at the edge of a table and a note clipped over.   
  
“Gone out for the evening. Here’s money for dinner. I think it should be enough,” he reads out loud, and Ken sighs in the childish thought of hoping something else out of his dreams would have come true.   
The note is folded in neat creases and then pocketed with the money he is left; his steps are heavy as he pads off to his room and searches for the old camcorder he covets so dearly to replay home videos of muffled audio and awkward angles.   
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
Kaneki nods, genuinely impressed with the change.   
“…This is clever,” he smiles lightly.   
  
Hide quirks a brow– always so highly attentive and in-tune with the other.   
“Wow; what a tone. I’m being innovative here! It says ‘18,’ but with just two candles.”   
“I see that! It’s gre–”   
“Besides, what kind of hassle are you trying to make me go through if I just started stabbing in 18 individual candles and lit them all?”   
“Hide, please. No; I like it–”   
“Then you gotta take 'em all out, and there’s all that wax dripping everywhe–”   
  
“–Is my name in blue frosting?”   
  
“…What? Yeah, why?”   
  
“It’s perfect,” the birthday boy grins, so very grateful for the familiarity.   
“Thanks.”   
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
When hands are lifted from his closed eyes, the half-ghoul is greeted with an elaborate array of fanciful dishes exhibited with dinnerware he is absolutely certain of not ever having seen in the apartment.   
  
“Where did all of this…?”   
  
Hinami promptly clasps her hands around one of his and looks at him imploringly to focus more on the occasion itself. “Big brother, it’s your birthday dinner!”   
  
“Right! Happy birthday, Kaneki-kun,” Banjou warmly places his hand upon the teen’s shoulder, and the triplets Ichimi, Sante, and Jiro flash their hands in unison with the very same congratulations echoed. Ken smiles humbly, counting in total 19 candles lit and displayed between the plates and platters.   
  
“Flower man worked very hard, right?” Hinami grins and gestures to the ghoul who continues to marvel at his own creation come to life.   
“We all helped as much as we could, except for heating things. He didn’t want me to burn myself,” she continues. “Do you like it?”   
The celebrant brushes bright white fringe away from his vision and lifts steel irises to glance at Tsukiyama’s stance– entirely anticipating.   
  
“It’s wonderful; I love it,” Ken responds without missing a beat at all, and he gestures with encouragement for everyone to surround the table.   
  
He could swear he saw something immediately click in the mind of the gourmet enthusiast from his peripheral when his face brightens and soon begins prattling off with incredible flourish to give everything on the setting an explanation and name.   
  
The company was very warm on a winter’s day so cold outside in December.   
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
It is springtime years later, and the sun provides heated light through high office windows– to his dismay, he sits indoors with papers stacked before him on a coffee table, watched by some few pairs of eyes strangely tinted with unlisted apprehension he is unable to decode or make sense of at all.   
  
“Second of April today, isn’t it? All tests returned indicate you are in optimal health. Happy birthday, ah, …Sasaki.”   
  
“Thank you.”   
  
He memorizes his handed biography without fail or question and tests the feel of his name by means of repetition to pronounce it.   
The young man scrawls it on paper on reflex out of boredom in meetings and physicals, yet even then “Sasaki Haise” fails to mold around him as any birth-given name should. It does not hold history in its syllables– it lacks having ever been cherished by others, and by what he finds on his body at just over two decades in age, “Haise” is particularly hollow.   
Raw determination to create his own identity is what drives him through the rest of the year, past the allergies of spring, humidity of the summer, and the leaves that collage magnificent colors in tangible fireworks he should witness in autumn past.   
  
Flu season is in full force once December arrives, but Haise reels in the cold and enjoys every bit of fog he exhales on his way to work in the hours of early morn. He packs two extra tissue packets to offer ill coworkers of the office with sympathetic smiles and conversation starters.   
  
It distracts him from oddly haunting memories in his dreams that rise from elongated shadows come near evening and voice to him,

> _“Accept me.”_   
>    
>  _“You need me; this, I am sure of._   
>    
>  _"My name…_   
>  _” **Your** name… _   
>  _“You are–”_

“–Sasaki! Hello, Sasaki? Don’t just zone out while you’re recording our annual Christmas video! I’m not paying for a crap DVD!”

“Stop yelling at the guy, you damned scrooge. Give him a break.”

Haise snaps out of his reverie.   
“Yes! I’m sorry,” the investigator violently shakes his head and renders his attention to the device in hand. 

Gray irises land upon a small, blinking red light found within the digital frame, and he pauses in remote confusion.   
  
“…Is the battery low? What is this?"

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Questions? Concerns? Do let me know, though please be gentle haha`


End file.
